


If Winter was Sweeter

by brizamartian



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky fails at dating, Discussion of Racial Slurs, I just want bucky to be happy, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sam is a Saint, Sexual Content, Unresolved Sexual Tension, the world needs more winterfalcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 22:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brizamartian/pseuds/brizamartian
Summary: After Steve lives his life and passes the shield onto Sam, Sam wonders if he really deserves the honor. Bucky thinks he does.Or; Five times Sam really wanted to say something to Bucky and the one time he finally does.Or; Sam teaches Bucky about funk, they eat sushi, and Bucky wears a turtleneck





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is an alarming lack of WinterFalcon in the wake of Avengers: Endgame. I have taken it upon myself to rectify this. Here's some shitty WinterFalcon.
> 
> Slight Warning: There is a brief talk about the use of the "n" word. I'm black and I have my own opinions about this but it can be a contentious topic and my opinions don't represent everyone's so take that as you will.

#### 1

Sam’s been sitting in the Avengers’ headquarters, staring at the shield for a good ten minutes now, and sighed at least a dozen times therein before he notices Barnes lurking in the corner, watching him.

Sam feigns a smile, “You know it’s kinda creepy. You standing there, staring silently and what not.”

Barnes is not amused. “You don’t feel like you deserve that, do you?”

“Wow, doc, great observation. You charge by the hour?”

Barnes somehow manages to look even less amused, which is actually kind of impressive. “You do deserve it,” he says. “Steve wouldn’t’ve given it to you if you didn’t.”

“Well maybe Steve made a mistake. Maybe you should have it.”

Barnes actually snorts. “No way. I’ve got too much blood on my hands to hold that thing.”

Sam shrugs. “Don’t we all?”

Barnes is staring at Sam, hard, and it’s slightly unsettling. His eyes are very, very blue. Sam thought Steve’s eyes were blue, but Barnes’s are practically otherworldly. He comes right up to Sam so Sam has to look up at him, which sucks and gives him a neck-ache. Barnes puts his hands, one flesh, one metal, on the shield. “You deserve it, Sam,” he says. And then he walks away.

Sam watches him go. He wonders if super-soldiers all have nice asses of if it’s just Steve and Barnes. He almost calls that out, normally he would, to diffuse the tension Barnes wears like a cloak, but he doesn’t.

#### 2

Sam misses his friend. His best friend really. And he’s happy for Steve, really he is. He’s happy he got to live his life. He deserves that and more. But he misses going on runs with him. He misses making little lists of films and music for him to listen to. He misses his outdated references. So he can’t imagine how Barnes must be feeling. Steve got to live his life, but he left Barnes behind. Sam knows that Barnes doesn’t resent him for it. He knows, if anything, Barnes feels like he needs to atone for his perceived sins. Sam wants to tell him he’s got nothing to atone for.

He thinks maybe it’s the perfect opportunity to do so when Barnes walks up to him one morning as he’s tying his shoe for a run and asks if he can join.

Sam tones down his reaction as much as he can. “Sure,” he says casually. But really he’d been feeling lonely running by himself without a super-soldier to lap him repeatedly. He could practically hear Steve’s voice, “On your left.”

Sam nearly trips when Barnes laps him the first time and says, “On your right.”

Barnes isn’t quite as fast a Steve, but Sam gets the feeling that he’s not trying very hard. He’s not even out of breath when Sam finally gives up and needs a rest.

“You’re pretty slow,” Barnes observes as Sam drops to his butt on the grass.

“Hey! I’m just a normal guy, cut me some slack. And I bet I could beat you if I had my wings,” he says and definitely doesn’t pout. “Besides. This is what I mean when I say I don’t deserve the shield. I’m just a normal guy. You’re not.”

Barnes frowns and sits beside him. “Not this again.”

“Yeah, this again. It’s just the truth. I’m just a dude.” He’s about to say something about Barnes deserving the shield despite what he’s done and a whole bunch of flowery shit when Barnes interrupts.

“Hey, what do you know about rap music?”

Sam nearly chokes on his own spit. “Um. What.”

Barnes shrugs. “I like it. But no one knows much about it. I don’t know what to listen to.”

“Are you just asking me ‘cause I’m black?”

Barnes looks confused. “What do you mean?”

Sam can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face. Barnes looks completely innocent. Of course he didn’t mean it like that. He’s a deadly assassin, but he’s wearing a face like an innocent child. He’s just curious. Somethings Sam forgets how much of Barnes’s life was robbed from him. “Nothing,” he says. “I know a thing or two. Though, I admit I’m a bit of an old head.”

“Nothing’s old to me,” Barnes shrugs.

“Well, I’d start with the greats then. 2pac, Biggie. Maybe some old Eminem if you’re in the mood. I’d stay away from Soundcloud, though, if I were you.”

Barnes, inexplicably, pulls out a notebook and hands it to Sam. “Write them down.”

Sam does as he’s told. He even includes a timeline so that he listens to them chronologically. He looks through the notebook, smile growing. Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, Freddie Mercury, Bob Marley, Whitney Houston and then in small handwriting, scribbled “All the greats are dead?”

“Yes, they kind of are,” Sam says. “You listen to Prince yet? Or Bowie?”

Barnes nods. “They’re on my list.”

“Good list.”

“Is that what you listen to?” Barnes asks.

“I’m actually a funk type of guy. Love Prince. James Brown, that kind of thing.”

“Funk,” Barnes repeats like he’s never heard the word.

Sam laughs. “Yeah, you should try it sometime.”

Later that day, or rather really early, at ass o’clock in the morning, Sam receives a text. It’s from an unknown number, but Sam figures out pretty quickly who it is.

It simply reads, _I like funk_.

#### 3

Barnes is hot. Like hot-hot. In an annoying kind of way. And it’s not like he hadn’t noticed it before, but he’s really noticing it now that Barnes has, for unfathomable reasons, decided to crash his group therapy session in a goddamn turtleneck.

Every head had swiveled to him. Some mouths were agape, including, unfortunately, Sam’s. Barnes was oblivious to everyone, except maybe Sam, as he took an empty seat and stretched out his really long legs. His hair was in a perfect messy bun, his black jeans were just slightly too tight, he was wearing what appeared to be Doc Marten’s, and Sam just kind of wanted to yell at him.

That’s not even counting the turtleneck, which was black and soft looking and definitely not the right size because Sam could see every single muscle move beneath it.

Sam was livid and he wasn’t even sure why, just…how dare this guy look that hot?

After what feels like forever Sam shuts his mouth and clears his throat. Everyone drags their eyes back to him with varying degrees of reluctance. “So, let’s start.”

Sam is only half paying attention to what he’s saying the entire time. He’s usually very good at his job. He’s usually engaged and empathetic. He changes people’s lives, dammit. He prides himself on that. Right now he’s sweating slightly because Barnes just stares at him the whole time, even when other people are talking, and Sam keeps glancing at him out of the corner of his eye to see if he’s still staring. And he is. The whole damn time. It must be an assassin thing or something.

Finally, mercifully, the hour is up and everyone leaves. Several people take a last look at he Winter Solider and his turtleneck.

One of Sam’s regular attendees, a former Marine named Ray, comes up to him. “Hey, one of these days you should bring all the Avengers to one of these sessions, bet they could all use it.” Ray shrugs a shoulder in Barnes’s direction. It’s nice of Ray to think of Barnes as an Avenger.

“You don’t even know, man,” Sam sighs.

Ray chuckles. “I’ll bet. Stay cool, ma nigga.”

“You got it.”

They shake hands and Sam is left alone with Barnes, who has a strange look on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asks.

“Why did he say that?” Barnes asks.

“Say…what.”

“That word.”

“What word?”

“The…’n’ word.” Barnes looks away like he’s embarrassed to even say that much.

Sam bursts out laughing. “‘Nigga?’”

“Yeah. That one. Rappers say it all the time. And he just said it. Does that mean something else now?”

Sam shakes his head. Oh boy. He sits down next to Barnes and refrains from staring at his pecs even though his pecs are staring at him. “It does. But also it doesn’t. We can say it. Black people. It’s like, our word now, you know? We say it to mean ‘friend’ and stuff. I guess that’d be pretty confusing for you.”

“Where I come from, that’s a terrible word,” Barnes says seriously, shaking his head. And Sam’s heart does a terrible little flip-flop thing that leaves him kind of dizzy. It happens whenever Barnes is being genuine with him. Whenever he’s genuinely interested or genuinely confused and he lets Sam see it, Sam starts to feel a type of way. What kind of way? He refuses to quantify that as of now.

“It is a terrible word. I think that’s why we say it. To claim it for ourselves so it can’t hurt us anymore.”

“That’s…well I guess that makes sense.”

“I don’t say it much, honestly. It is an ugly word.”

“I thought maybe the world wouldn’t need a word like that anymore but people still say shit like that to hurt people and…other things. Nothing really ever changes, I guess.”

“Man, that’s depressing as hell.”

Barnes shrugs, and his shoulder, the real one, ripples and Sam starts to feel angry again. He almost tells him so. He wants to tell him not to look like that because it straight up makes him angry, but Barnes says, “I’m hungry.”

Sam sighs. “There’s a deli next door.”

“Let’s go then.”

“Let’s?”

Barnes stares at him and either Sam’s going crazy or his eyes are getting bluer. “Yeah.” He gets up and walks away, not bothering to see if Sam is following. Sam could stay here and be stubborn but, he’s never met a ham sandwich he could say no to.

#### 4

Barnes invites him out to eat sushi and he’s not sure what Barnes is playing at, but it’s best to be on his guard because the Winter Soldier inviting him to sushi is grounds to be suspicious.

_I’ve never had sushi,_ Barnes had texted him at 4 AM.

_Okay._

_Do you like sushi?_ Barnes had asked.

_Yeah, actually. I do._

_Where do we get good sushi?_

And that’s how they ended up in a small hole in the wall sushi joint that Sam happens to have on good authority is the best sushi joint in the tristate area.

“It’s just…raw fish?” Barnes asks.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Yes, James, it’s just raw fish.”

Barnes makes an odd face and Sam realizes that, even though he was just joking around, he maybe shouldn’t have called him by his first name. He opens his mouth to apologize but Barnes interrupts him. He interrupts him a lot actually.

“You can call me James.”

“Can I?”

“Steve called me Bucky, but…you can call me James.”

“Oh, ok.” Sam doesn’t know what to do with this so he’s extremely grateful when his food comes and he’s able to promptly stuff his face to avoid saying anything else.

“This is actually good,” Barnes says.

“You sound surprised.”

“Didn’t think raw fish should be good.” Then Barnes smiles, and yep, his eyes are definitely bluer. 

“I’m kind of an old head like that.”

Sam chokes on his food, coughs twice, and says “Some things do change, I guess.”

Barnes puts his elbow on the table. “I guess they do.”

#### 5

James is now convinced that trying every type of food possible is necessary and he apparently thinks dragging Sam along is a good idea. Sam does in fact have extensive working knowledge of all the worthwhile eateries around, and is admittedly, a bit of a foodie, but still.

Today is Ethiopian food, which is a bit spicy for Sam’s taste but doesn’t seem to faze the Winter Soldier in the least. Sam tries not to be such a baby, but it’s hard to do while crying fat, spicy tears.

“Man, you’re tearing through that,” Sam huffs, dabbing his eyes with a napkin.

James has slung another mouthful of meat into his mouth and he’s not even sweating. Sam’s angry again. “This is great. Meat and bread. Great,” James says, with his mouth full.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

"You’re a wimp,” James says, mouth still full.

“I am not! This is very spicy.” Sam’s nose is running. He sniffles loudly. “It’s so spicy they serve you milk and yogurt with it!”

“Wimp.”

It’s getting dark. The streets alight with couples strolling around. Sam doesn’t blush, ever, but he maybe blushes a little bit now.

“I hate walking slow,” James says as they’re forced to slow their pace so as not to bump into any leisurely walkers.

“Oh come on. Live a little.”

“Walking slow is like the opposite of living,” James rolls his eyes.

“No it’s not. You get to enjoy things when you walk slow. Stuff you wouldn’t get to enjoy if you were in a rush.”

James sighs loudly. He looks around, seems to get bored, then looks at Sam.

“Um. What?”

James shrugs. “You said I could enjoy stuff I wouldn’t get to if I was in a rush.”

“But you’re just looking at me?”

“Yeah.”

Sam’s heart does several perfect backflips and a triple axel as he tries to figure out if the Winter Solider is indeed flirting with him or if he’s gone insane. His money’s on the later.

James, as always, doesn’t seem to have much of a problem just staring at the side of Sam’s face, so he lets it happen. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, possibly something he’ll regret later, when James interrupts. Again.

“Things have changed. Like you said.”

“Yeah?”

“Two men can get married now.”

Sam trips on a crack that probably doesn’t exist. “Um, yeah. They can. And women,” Sam says when he regains his footing. “Is that…weird to you?”

“It’s surprising to me.”

“Is it?”

“I never thought something like that would happen.”

“A lot of people didn’t, I think. It’s kind of amazing that it did.”

“People still have a problem with it. Even if the law says it’s ok. That’s surprising too.”

Sam shrugs. “There will always be homophobic people, and racist people, and sexist people. But the numbers get smaller all the time as time goes on. I guess that’s how things change. Sometimes gradually, sometimes in little leaps, but they happen with time.”

“I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“Racist or sexist. Or homophobic. Or I try not to be?”

“I know.”

James looks slightly relieved. “Things were really different, you know. When I grew up.”

Sam feels like James is telling him something really important. “I’m sure.”

“I maybe said and thought some things that weren’t true…”

For once, it’s Sam cutting in. “James. It’s ok. I get it. Honestly, you’re kind of amazing. You and Steve. How well you guys adapted? I can’t imagine what it’s like, waking up in different times, trying to figure out the here and now with so little to go on. I think you can be forgiven for a couple of missteps.”

James is looking at him again. Nobody’s eyes are _that blue_ , it just isn’t realistic. “Thank you, Sam.”

“Sure.”

“You deserve that shield more that you will ever know,” James says quietly, and if the back of his hand brushes Sam’s, he pretends not to notice.

#### +1

The Winter Soldier popping into his group therapy with a sandwich and a coffee is becoming a thing and everyone is noticing. Sam pretends it’s no big deal to have a sexy, metal armed assassin bring him his lunch in the hopes that everyone will drop it. He simultaneously loathes and loves the fact that James can’t help but attract attention and yet he still seems completely oblivious to said attention.

Sam wants to say something about it. So he finally does.

“Why do you keep coming to my sessions?” Sam asks.

“Because I like listening to you talk,” James replies.

Sam’s stunned. He maybe should have expected an answer like that, but then again, how could he? “Um.”

“Anyway. That deli next door is really good,” he elaborates, still lounging in his chair.

“Um. Yeah.”

“So do you wanna get dinner later? We haven’t done Brazilian.”

“Hold up a minute.”

James stares. Sam stares back. “What?”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You bring me lunch, you text me at weird hours, you take me to dinner, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you won’t let me pay.”

“I can’t let you pay, that’d be rude.” James looks comically offended.

“Rude? Why?”

“You don’t let the dame your courting pay for dinner. Or the man, I guess.”

“The…wait. Courting?”

James looks completely innocent. “Yes.”

“You’re courting me.” Sam’s dumbstruck. This idiot has been trying to date him this whole time. What in the world.

“Yes.”

“Was that supposed to be obvious?”

“Well…I guess not. I wasn’t sure if you were…interested.”

“I’m interested,” Sam blurts out, then wishes he hadn’t, then really doesn’t mind too much that he did. “You’re dumb. That’s not how you date someone.”

“It’s not? That’s how I always dated before.”

“And how’d that work for you?”

James shrugs. “Worked great.”

“Well, it’s different. This is…different.”

James stands up, still staring Sam in the eye, and Sam has managed not to look away. He’s pretty proud of that. “You’re right. It is. I’ve never done this before. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

He’s being genuine again. Sam is done for.

James keeps going. “You know. Back then, a long time ago, Steve was…well he was taken with this girl, Peggy. And I was…taken with him. Now he’s lived his whole life with Peggy, and I’m happy for him, but.”

“I guess it’s time for you to live your own life,” Sam says quietly. He can’t really believe James is telling him this, but he can’t say he’s all that surprised. James had a way of looking at Steve and Sam isn’t sure how Steve could take it or how he didn’t notice because James is looking at him like that now and he feels about ready to melt.

For the very first time, James looks away first. Sam throws his hesitation to the wind and puts his hands on his face, making him look at him again. “You can live your own life now. You deserve that more than you know.”

James blinks once. His eyes are a color Sam is now certain he has made up in his head.

Sam isn’t sure who kisses whom, but they kiss and it’s sweeter and softer than it has any right to be and all he wants is to give James the entire world, because he deserves it.


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write sexy time for these two. So here is some sexy time.

_Steve was missing out,_ Sam thinks as James kisses him stupid. He’s not even sure how he’s doing that. He does these things with his tongue that seem very, very wrong, and impossible, and slightly illegal, which pretty much sums up the Winter Soldier in general.

It feels right though.

James barely lets Sam in through the door of his apartment before he’s got his hands under his shirt, running his mismatched palms up his ribs. 

“Wow, slow down,” Sam pants.

“Why?” James asks.

Sam forgets the answer to the question. And also the question. He’s too busy yanking James’s shirt over his head. 

Sam has never felt small, but the way James grabs his ass and hoists him up like he’s nothing does something to him. 

Sam’s still got his legs wrapped around James when his back hits the bed and James doesn’t even give him a chance to breath before he’s climbing on top of him, his hands working his shirt off, and his mouth working to keep Sam very incoherent. It’s kind of not fair.

“You’re not fair,” Sam breathes.

“Thanks,” James replies. Sam hates him a bit. He’s also a tiny bit in love.

He kicks off his shoes and the two race to see who can get the other’s pants off faster. James has better leverage and wins by a country mile, yanking his pants and his boxers off in one quick motion.

Sam’s already hard as hell and yes, he’s on the large side to say the least. so he lets James, who is evidently a little taken aback at the sight of his dick, stare a bit before he flips them over so he can struggle to finally un-buckle James’s belt.

“That’s…big,” James says, and Sam can’t help but smugly note that he looks a little dazed. The otherworldly blue of his eyes are almost swallowed up by his pupils. He keeps licking his lips. It’s great.

“Yeah?” He finally gets James’s pants off with little finesse.

James just nods and then he’s gasping when Sam wraps his lips around his cock, which isn’t anything to sneeze at.

Sam sucks hard, not quite able to take it all in, and comes up with a pop. “Sorry, I haven’t done this in a while,” Sam says.

James actually _glares_ at him. “Shut up and do it again.”

“Ok.” Sam does so gladly. He maybe won’t admit it, but sucking dick is an activity that he used to rather enjoy. He’d fooled around with guys in the military and called it a “phase” but he didn’t really believe that. He stopped believing that completely when he saw James in a fucking turtleneck and kind of wanted to jump him.

He doesn’t think about it too much. He doesn’t think about anything too much. He doesn’t want to. He focuses on the weight of James’s dick in his mouth and the weight of his own as he reaches down and squeezes hard, aching for relief. 

He wraps his fingers around James with his other hand, relishes the incredible noises that James makes as he works him with his mouth and hand.

Sam could get off just like this, with James’s cock stuffed in his mouth and his metal hand on his head. In fact, he just might.

No, he totally will, because James is coming in his mouth with the sweetest sound Sam’s ever heard and it’s just _great_ , and Sam gives himself one more nice hard stroke so he’s coming right after him.

Sam wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crawls on top of the Winter Soldier and thinks that his life is really weird and a little bit messed up and so is James, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then James says, “Can I suck you next time? I’d say you deserve it.” And yeah, Sam’s maybe a lot in love and it’s great.


End file.
